Black Sheep

The other day someone mentioned that she had a dream that she was pregnant with twins. We were at dinner with friends and a bunch of the other ladies at the table (all that have multiple children) apparently collectively expressed that the thought was not a happy one to them. I was feeding baby girl and didn't overhear the conversation at the time and my friend ended up apologizing later for bringing it up at all, concerned that she had hurt my feelings. I assured her that I wasn't hurt or offended, and said I hadn't even overheard, but it did get me thinking about how I handle and respond to these sorts of things now.

There is no way for me to pretend if I am completely honest with myself that I am not envious of friends who can still bear children.  I stare at any woman who is pregnant in awe as it seems to truly be a miraculous event to me now, even more so than it was when I was pregnant with baby girl. That said, I am genuinely happy for all of my friends who are pregnant, who are trying to get pregnant, and who have recently had their children. The issue if I am totally honest that I struggle emotionally with the most is people who are having their second child or adding another sibling to their family. Most of my friends that are around the same age are currently trying for, pregnant with, or delivering their first child. I only have a few friends who are expanding their families at the moment. My friends who are delivering their first children don't quite hit that spot in my gut as much because I have been in their shoes before. My friends pregnant with siblings though - it is definitely bittersweet for me emotionally, and I grieve that I won't get to experience that or that we didn't have the choice to decide if we were going to be a one-child family, as another friend recently told me. This is something that I hope will heal with time, especially if we are able to give baby girl a sibling through surrogacy, but I honestly don't know if the wound will ever be fully closed.

Definitionally, we are dealing with secondary infertility. While our diagnosis is not a mystery as to why we are in this box, all the reproductive doctors have that phrase on my charts. Infertility is a horrible and painful experience, no matter when it happens, but I do think secondary infertility is sort of the black sheep of the infertility world. I have had a lot of people who have told us that we need to "just be grateful for the one that we have," or "so many women never get to have any children," or "God doesn't make mistakes and there is a plan." My personal favorite is "Why don't you just adopt?" as if there is some shelter with lots of kids we could just go bring one home from like a puppy.  I cannot put into words how grateful we are every day to be parents to baby girl, yet every time I am told something along those lines it's like being sucker-punched in the stomach. I can't help but feel guilty on one hand and at the same time, frustrated that people don't understand the grieving and trauma that comes from being in this place, especially not by choice.

When I was still in the hospital, after the DVT, I had to have a PIC line placed for the antibiotics they were going to send me home on. After the doctor placed the PIC line, I had to have an x-ray, to make sure that it was in the correct vein. The lady who came in to perform the x-ray asked me if there was any chance I could be pregnant. I burst into tears and explained that I had just had an emergency hysterectomy a week prior. I will never forget her telling me that "Well, you should be grateful you have the one. I could never have any children." I was immediately rocked with guilt and felt like I was being selfish for being upset that I had been through my own trauma and for wanting more children for my family.

This has been really hard. I have been hesitant to reach out to friends who had been through IVF to conceive their first child for fear of offending them since we didn't need help to get pregnant with baby girl. I have feared that even those in the surrogacy world would see us as selfish since we were already parents. I have been shocked at some of the conversations I have had to have even with some good friends who I know mean well but just don't know what to say. When I'm in a joking mood, I have shared with family and friends that hubby and I are getting the "full tour" of the reproductive world, as we have done everything from the old-fashioned way to the super-scientific breakthrough way. I think one reason we have chosen to be open about our story is so I can avoid the "When are you giving baby girl a sibling?" question. Through it all, I have known the Lamb was with us as we celebrated the joy of baby girl's birth, grieved the personal loss of my fertility, and gained hope through pursuing the journey of surrogacy, but it hasn't made the process any less painful or scary or even overwhelming.

For everyone reading this who has struggled with infertility, I grieve and stand with you. I know that even if you achieve your very much wanted children, whether by pregnancy or surrogacy or adoption, it never fully heals or erases the pain and struggle it took to get there. I stand with those of you who are childless, whether by choice or by circumstance. To those who have the family the size and way they desire, whatever that looks like, I stand and celebrate with you. For those pregnant or trying to be pregnant, I pray daily that you will have healthy and easy pregnancies and deliveries with healthy babies and a healthy momma. And for those dealing with secondary infertility specifically, I stand with you as another black sheep. Know that you're not alone and it is completely valid to not feel that your family is complete, no matter what anyone else says.